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Elizabeth heard the quiver in her stepmothers voice. It was a sound all women knew, that desperate attempt to appear strong. She curled up on the sofa. "Im sorry, Anita. Things have been a little crazy here. How are you doing?"
Anita laughed. It was a fluttery, sorrowful sound. "Oh, honey, I try not to think about myself too much. "
Elizabeth felt a spark of kinship with her stepmother. "Thats what we women do, isnt it? We push our lives underwater and float on the surface. Then one day you realize its someone elses pool. "
"What in the Sam Hill are you talkin about?"
"Sorry, Anita. The truth is Im half drunk right now. It makes me philosophical. " She mangled that word pretty badly.
"I noticed that in your letter. I figured there was a whole bushel of a story I wasnt gettin. "
"Youve got enough on your plate, Anita. You dont need my mess piled on top. "
"You just cant do it, can you, Birdie?"
"Do what?"
"Share your life with me. I thought now, with Edward gone, we might change things between us. "
"I was trying to protect you," she answered, stung. "Jack and I have separated. But the girls dont know, so dont say anything. "
"Oh, my. " Anita released a breath; it made a squeaking sound, like a childs toy. "But yall seemed so happy together. What happened?"
"Nothing. Everything. " Elizabeth took a big swallow of wine. How could she explain her own formless dissatisfaction to a woman whod wanted so little from her own life? Anita might understand the high and low tides of a long-term marriage, but she couldnt understand how the ebb tides could erode a womans soul. And she sure couldnt understand the yawning emptiness of a nest that had lost its chicks. "Its just a bump in the road, Anita. Im sure well be fine. " And tonight--three glasses of wine later--she could almost believe that.
"Someday Ill quit expectin you to grow up, Birdie. Theyll probably bury me the next day. " She laughed, but it was a bitter sound, not her laugh at all. "Well, Im sorry yall are havin problems. Thats what you want me to say, isnt it?"
Elizabeth decided to move onto easy ground. This was getting too personal; it was ruining her good mood. "Enough about me. Howve you been? Ive been thinking about you. " That much was true, at least.
"This big ole house has a lot of ghosts," Anita answered. "Sometimes its so quiet I think Ill go crazy. Then I remember that I was crazy to start with. "
"You know whats helped me? Sitting on the beach. Maybe a change of scenery would do you some good. "
"You think?"
This was definitely better. The scenery was a safe topic. "Theres something magical about sitting on a beach all by yourself. Its funny, I was scared of the beach for years. Now I cant be away from it too long. " Her voice snagged on a suddenly exposed shoal. "I always wanted you and Daddy to see it. "
"I know, honey. We thought we had time. "
Time. It was the rack everything hung on: life, loss, hope, love. So often, it seemed to slip through your fingers like silk. But sometimes, you could reach back into what was and take hold. "I took a painting class tonight," she said softly.
"Oh, Birdie, thats wonderful. I hated it when you gave up on your talent. "
Elizabeth was surprised by that. "You thought I had talent? You never told me that. "
Anita sighed, then said, "Ah, honey, I told you. Well. You take care now, yhear?"
"You, too, Anita. And think about sitting on a beach. "
"Ill do that, honey. I surely will. I could use a change of scenery. "
TWENTY
If there was a still a sun out there, tethering the earth in its orbit, youd never have known it. The midday sky was as thick and heavy as granite.
On a day like this, neither stormy nor clear, there was nothing to do except build a fire, curl up on the sofa with a cup of tea, and call your best friend. So, that was exactly what Elizabeth did.
"Whos dead?" Meghann answered gruffly.
